Page 29 of When her Duke Returns
Mary braced for impact though her brother seemed mightily content. She turned to Antony, wondering whether this announcement would change the mapping of her life as much as the last. After all, the sale of Summerhead revealed the hidden depth of their alliance—a set of puppeteers, pulling at strings she could not grasp.
Francis continued. “My Sophia and I have been wedded almost a year now as you well know. Despite our suffering the most natural of tribulations, I daresay I have found great happiness in the gentleness of her company. So,” he declared then, and brought Sophia to stand, “it falls to me to release you all from your anxious misery, especiallyyouMama, and state plainly that—”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Sophia whined, cutting her husband off mid-sentence. “Enough with the speeches, Francis…” She brought her hands in prayer before her mouth and then announced, “we're having a child.”
The family sat in stunned silence for a moment as the pieces fell into place before erupting into an erratic discord of cries and coos. Mary watched her mother most intently of all. After all, her mama had not kept secret her desire for Carlislegrandbabies.
“What delightful news!” Harry said in earnest and brought Sophia into a tight hug. “I shall pray each night that he takes after you, my dear.”
“As shall I,” Sophia joked back.
“Such a gift!” their mother added. “Such awonderfulgift! When are you expecting? Oh, how long have youknown?” she asked first and then asked a thousand more questions as the family fell into an overzealous display of kinship.
Mary watched as Francis’ eyes welled with tears, quite possibly for the first time since his boyhood, and she knew he had set himself on the right path. If only she could bring herself to do the same.
After the commotion died down a notch, Antony brought his hand to rest upon hers, and he leaned in close.
“Us next,” was all he whispered against her ear before drawing back… But it was enough to make Mary feel faint.
* * *
When Alexander found himself strolling arm in arm with the most personable Miss Stanton under the watchful gaze of the Carlisles, he hadn’t quite known what to make of the ordeal. The weight of her palm against his forearm came to rest with great unfamiliarity. She existed in a state of total contrast to his former lover—where Ceceliawas a warm fire, beckoning him to come sit, Mary was a howling storm, drawing him in with the threat of lightning.
As much as he wished to deny it, his heart was still wrapped up in Mary. He brought a hand up to guard against the hot midday sun as they walked up the cliffside, trailing behind the others as they made their home.
“… but, other than that, I quite enjoyed my time with the Briant boys though, as I mentioned, my mother was most angry with me,” Cecelia said to cap off a story Alexander had listened to in half-attendance. “It really was such a sordid affair, but… Are you quite all right, Your Grace? Only, you seem rather distant.”
“I am,” he replied, “all right, that is.”
Cecelia frowned and came to a halt. “Could it be Mary?” she asked, and Alexander’s stomach lurched.
“What?” he asked in alarm. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Over there with Antony,” she added warily and pointed off to a rocky nook further down the cliff. “Could that be her?”
He followed the trail drawn by Cecelia’s index and set his gaze upon Burkley and Mary. The two were engaged in uneasy conversation by the looks of it as Mary’s voice rose to a shout. Still, she fumbled and bumbled along on that blasted ankle of hers as if all decorum and good sense had fallen off that bank with her.
“Perhaps we should intervene,” Cecelia suggested. “It’s not like she can make an escape. Oh, I do feel so sorry for her, what with that injury of hers.”
And her betrothal to such a ninny,Alexander wanted to add. Instead, he simply nodded. “Would you be quite offended if we did?”
“On the contrary, I’m eager to see her rid of him,” Cecelia declared, and the two of them made their way over, trampling through a thicket of dead coastal brush.
When they were upon the pair at last, Mary didn’t note their arrival in the slightest. She picked up her tirade in more pronounced earnest as Antony watched on in a mix of horror and admiration. No matter what Alexander thought of the man, he could not deny him the virtue of his patience nor his dedication to the woman he so longed for.
“Mary!” Cecelia said, rather against her better manners. “What is going on? Doubtless, they can hear you screech in Somerset.”
Mary silenced herself at once and shook her head, but it was Antony who spoke first. “Miss Stanton and… Your Grace,” he added as a stunned afterthought.
“Oh, my sweetest and dearest friend,” Cecelia cooed and took Mary by the arm, “I wouldsolike a moment alone with you that we might catch up.” Clearly, Miss Stanton was as quick-witted as she was kind. “Walk with me, will you not?”
Mary looked back at Antony with a grimace and then turned to her friend. She refused to meet Alexander’s gaze, however.
“Certainly, Cecelia. Let us away at once!”
“Will you be quite all right on your own?” Antony asked as he sought to hold Mary back. He seemed nonplussed over their fight. “Your ankle is still—”
“My ankle is healing quite nicely,” Mary said curtly. With a bright flash of her gown, the two women began their slow ascent back to the castle.
